The Story of Anubis, Warlord of Cruelty
by Alexandria the Great
Summary: PG-13 because of violence and gore. Chronicles the life of Anubis before he met Talpa.


            His name was Anubis.  Anubis was not a happy man.  Anubis was a sad man.  Anubis was a very sad man.  Anubis was so sad in fact, he wanted other people to be sad.  Anubis tried to make other people sad by hurting them and killing the ones they loved.  The killing did not make Anubis feel better.  The killing made Anubis feel worse.  Now Anubis was an angry man. 

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            Anubis was the youngest son in the Roichi clan.  For generations, his family and the Wen-Dreda clan had feuded, and feuded beyond a few casualties.  Anubis' parents decided that it was time to stop the blood shed, and a marriage was arranged for Anubis and the Wen-Dreda clan's youngest girl, Enya.  Anubis did not want to marry; he was already in love with a mysterious girl named Quiri.  

            Quiri loved Anubis as well.  They had to meet in secret, for Anubis knew his family wouldn't approve of an orphaned girl.

            "Oh, Quiri!" Anubis turned red and tears appeared in his eyes, "I don't want to marry a woman I have never before met! I could only…..I only could ever….marry you!"

            Quiri was surprised at this and said, "Anubis,"

            "Hush, my love, I have a plan.  I will not attend my wedding.  I will run away with you tomorrow.  I won't have any but you."

            "Anubis—"

            He kissed her.  Anubis was a very young man—he had just turned seventeen.  As far as he knew, Quiri was younger than him, fourteen perhaps.  Anubis left with the promise of being at her side on the following day.  Quiri knew she couldn't make it.

            Anubis' father knew his son and had his personal guards standing at his son's bedroom door while he slept. Anubis couldn't leave to meet Quiri.

            The next day was the wedding.  Anubis felt himself descending into doom as his horse approached the priest's home.  He would never see his beloved again, and she would never forgive him for leaving her.  He dismounted and was escorted inside by his parents.  There, before the priest and his bride's parents was Enya.  The one thing nobody bothered to tell him was that Enya was Quiri.  Anubis' wedding was joyful as he received his wife.

            Another thing nobody told Anubis was that on Enya's side of the family were harsh, ignorant, begrudging people that never accepted the union as the end of the malevolent struggle between the clans, especially since it was their side that sustained the most losses.  They came and killed their cousin Enya and her brothers and sisters as well as Anubis' immediate family and scalped many of his aunts and uncles.  Anubis was away, and came home to brokenness.  He did not stay at home.  The men that had done this deed were no longer family.  Anubis was going to be a fighter.  

            He found his cousins living in a stately manor.   He entered in the dead of night alone, letting his feelings toward the image of his dead loves guide him from room to room.  The people that matched the portraits throughout the house were his targets.  The first man he slammed his mace on, his head exploding like a melon.  The second man, sleeping next to him didn't wake; Anubis had slipped a poison in to his tea before he'd gone to bed.  The next two men surprised Anubis, but he overpowered both of them and pushed them out of open windows to their deaths.  The last man, the oldest member of the clan and Enya's great-grandfather, Anubis choked to death in his sleep.  

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            When he married into the Wen-Dreda clan, Anubis inherited a vast empire and an army to defend it with.  Now that he was the last of both his clan and the Wen-Dreda, he defended what he had. Anubis was going to be the leader of a great army.

            Wars erupted all over the countryside. Anubis welcomed them with open arms and the art of day-to-day battle consumed every drop of his energy.  It drained him and refueled him.  It loved him and it hated him.  It birthed him and it killed him.  It was all he had.  Then, it was all he wanted.

            Anubis became hard, cold, and unforgiving.  He didn't just want to win the wars he fought: now he wanted to humiliate the losers and make sure they never rose to power again.  None could oppose him.  Many tried, twice that many fell against him, greedy, blood thirsty Anubis.  

 His name came to mean 'Evil Barbarian' in the place he once called home.  He'd returned years back to conquer his own home and call it his own—literally.   

But Anubis, hard, cold, evil, and unforgiving as he was, was still human, and still hurting, and in dire need of love.  He tried finding it in the wrong places—traitorous whores filled his days and his bed, pretending to love him, and he didn't show that his vulnerable heart believed them.  He had to see them merry-making with his men to believe what his mind had been screaming at his heart for the longest.  He killed all ten of his whores and the men they were with, killing the last bit of heart he'd had, stored away in the depths of his battle-scarred chest.  

Anubis was his name.  He was not a happy man.  Anubis was a sad man.  The once exhilarating battles had become monotonous and the meaning of life shattered.  He had long ago tricked himself into believing that as long as he kept winning and winning more and more, he'd be happy and content.  He was wrong, and his non-existent heart was sick.  

These were his inner demons.

He sat on a dark day in the outskirts of a major city, alone and contemplating what life he had left.  He looked his sword over, half a mind to remove his breastplate and insert his sword.  He untied the leather that bound the plate of iron to his chest and the iron plate dropped to the ground.  Anubis took one last breath and put the tip of the sword to his chest.  He pushed it in slowly, wanting to cause himself as much pain as possible.  The blade didn't get an inch into his skin.  He pushed harder.  The blade refused to go deeper.  Anubis looked down at his hands and saw a gray gauntlet.  An arm appeared in the gauntlet.  A chest appeared on the arm, and a huge iron mask on the shoulders.  Two yellow spot eyes gleamed at him.  Anubis sat stunned and frightened.

"Take me not, Devil," he whispered, refuting the rationale behind every act he'd committed since he was twenty-four years old.  The figure's eyes gleamed brighter.  He pointed to the city Anubis was going to take.

"Conquer that city, destroy it.  You may have your wish to live and fight forever, and be truly happy doing it."  A voice boomed from within the Devil-figure's chest.  Anubis looked at the city.  He looked at the figure.  Nothing made sense anymore.

"I how can I be happy when I know not love?"

"You will.  Do as I say, and you will live forever, fight and be truly happy, and you may have all the land and spoils you want.  Just do as I say."  The figure vanished, his last words repeating into the evening air.

Anubis' men looked up to see him charging at them with his sword held high. 

"Attack! Attack! NOW! ATTACK!"  the men scrambled together and charged on their own horses at the city.

Two days later, after thousands of civilian casualties and a few broken bones in the bodies of him men, the city surrendered and called Anubis its king.  The elation Anubis felt with his first victory when he was a young man returned to him and he stood on a high point, screaming a victorious war-cry, his hair blowing up in a gust.  In the middle of the crowd below him, the Devil figure stood silent and still.  Anubis stopped his self -praise and got down in the crowd, pushing his way through.  He stood by the Devil figure, completely elated with the evil victory.

"Do you want this every day of your life?" the vice boomed out of nowhere.

"Yes, I do." Anubis confirmed with a grave nod and wide eyes.

"Do you swear always to fight and kill with your whole heart?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you swear your loyalty to me?"

"Yes, I do."

The eyes glowed bright.  They glowed bright enough to light a room, then a whole house, then a town, then a country, and Anubis' world fell away. 

When Anubis became aware of what was going on around him, he was in a dimly lit room in strange armor and in the company of three other strange looking men.  The other men bowed to him.

"Who are you?" Anubis asked them. "I am Anubis, Leader of the Wen-Dreda army."

"I am Dais, of the Frothska Militia Horde.  I am the Warlord of Illusion." Said a man with silvery hair, one good eye and burgundy armor.

"I am Sekhmet of Shile.  I am the Warord of Venom" said a man with repulsive green hair and beady eyes.

"I am Kale of the Bornebarings.  Iam the Warlord of Corruption." said a man with sea-blue hair and a thick tounge. Anubis looked at them.  He could tell they were warriors, perhaps better than himself.  But now was not the time to be doubting himself.  The Devil figure appeared.  

"And you, Anubis, are my Warlord of Cruelty." The voice boomed again.  

Anubis was going to be the warlord of Cruelty.  

"Yes, my master," Anubis accepted, "But what shall I call you?"

"I am Talpa," the Devil figure declared, "and you, are _mine_."


End file.
